


Loving the Ladies of Marvel

by AmethystLover



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Female Protagonist, Female-Centric, Femslash, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmethystLover/pseuds/AmethystLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've noticed a distinct lack of Marvel ladies/readers fics and have arrived to add my attempt at writing romance.</p><p>More tags, ships, and characters will be added as this progresses. It will most likely consist of one-shots and drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wanda/Reader - A Crown of Violets

**Author's Note:**

> This angsty Wanda/Reader fic was inspired by violets and poetry by Sappho.  
> In the past, violets have apparently been used by women loving women to express their affection towards each other.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This angsty Wanda/Reader fic was inspired by violets and poetry by Sappho.  
> In the past, violets have apparently been used by women loving women to express their affection towards each other.

Wanda was just so beautiful like this, you thought.

The delicate stems of violets were woven into a flower crown resting on her long, dark hair. Her fingers (which were usually busy with the magical crimson threads of some spell) were now gently moving in the intricate dance of creating a matching flower crown for you.

You were both sitting in a field of wild flowers; the sun’s warmth was light on your back and the air felt comfortably heavy with the promise of spring. You were far away from the hectic bustle, noise, and pollutants of the city. Far away from all cares and troubling responsibilities. Far away from everyone and everything.

It was just you and Wanda. Together.

Her dark eyes were soft as she peered at you from under her lashes.  
“What is on your mind, ____________?” Wanda asked as she set aside your nearly finished crown. Her voice, all of her movements were graceful and languid. You couldn’t help but be entranced by her.

“Couldn’t you just look into my mind and find out?” you teased with a smile. You reached over the short distance between the two of you and entwined your fingers together in a loose hold.

“Yes, I could. But…” Wanda paused to lift your hand to her lips. She reverently kissed each knuckle and you couldn’t help but shiver a little at the warmth of her sweet breath against your skin. Her eyes refused to stray from your gaze and the look within their depths sent your cheeks flushing.

“…But?” you sighed, nearly breathless from just the simple brush of Wanda’s lips on the back of your hand.

“But…” Wanda tugged at your hand and with luxurious ease leaned back into the wild grass of the field so that you lightly rested on top of her. Like some tempting muse from a romance painting she looked up at you with her hair splayed about among the violets.

She smiled, “I’d much rather hear you say it out loud.”

With words like that coming from lips like hers you couldn’t help but steal a quick kiss before you breathed against her,

“I love you, Wanda.”

At your admission it was as if the sun grew warmer and the colorful violets contrasted even more vibrantly against her pale skin.

You finally told her. The words felt so right. The world felt so right.

“And I love y-” before she could finish her reply you quickly cut her off with a kiss more heat and desperation than before. It was a kiss that lingered and didn’t quite end; it just melded seamlessly into another. Seconds and minutes melded seamlessly into another. Wanda reluctantly pulled away.

“____________?” she looked up and her brow furrowed in confusion as she saw that your eyes were swimming with unshed tears.

Your breath shuddered from the heaviness you felt in your chest. You couldn’t bear to look at Wanda anymore so you closed your eyes allowing a few tears to fall.  
Wanda cradled your head in her hands and peppered your face with quick kisses.  
“____________, what is it?”

You buried your face into her neck and choked back a sob. If you pressed yourself close enough maybe you could meld into her. If you pressed yourself close enough you wouldn’t have to look at her concerned face.

“Wanda…I know.” Your voice came out rasping and strangled with repressed tears.

“Know what?” Wanda ran her slim fingers repeatedly through your hair, her pulse rapid near your ear. She was trying to calm you, console you. That only made you cry harder but you didn’t dare pull away from your nestling between her jaw and collarbone.

“I know this isn’t real.”

With that the world with all its bright sunshine and sweet smelling flowers pulsed around you. Then it all shattered into scarlet pieces.

Just like your heart.


	2. Natasha/Reader - Renegade Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Natasha/Reader fic might be continued in another drabble. No promises though.  
> It was mostly inspired by the Carrie Underwood song.

“She’s an outlaw,” Sheriff Rogers stated.

“She’s a got a sure shot, a quick draw,” Deputy Barnes countered.

“She’ll give you the runaround, then she’ll take it all,” Mr. Stark took another swig from his bottle by the bar.

“You best not fall for her tricks now,” cautioned Dr. Banner.

“I wont.” You confidently smiled, “After all, she’s just another renegade runaway.”

With that you tipped your hat and stepped out the door into the wild West.

They called her a red headed devil in a dress, but you only knew her as Natasha Romanov. At least that’s what the wanted posters claimed her name to be. You also knew that she was wanted alive or dead.

Sheriff Roger preferred alive so that she could be brought to justice for her crimes. Mayor Fury seemed a little more impartial, but still keenly interested that she specifically be brought back with another particular outlaw. A man named Barton who had been seen with the woman bandit.

Well, bandit wasn’t quite the right term.

She was well known for using her pretty face and her single action revolver named Widows Bite to steal from Stark Industries. But what she stole from the wealthy man (who was already known for having a penchant for women and strong drink) wasn’t his money.

Tony Stark claimed that the red headed renegade had stolen blueprint plans that he had drafted for Mayor Fury. Blueprints that would revolutionize the world as they knew it. Steve Rogers at least took the claim seriously enough. As the sheriff of a small western town that was just starting to gain the attention of Stark Industry for its iron mining, he took a lot of things seriously.

You could still picture him in your mind with his arms crossed over his chest in a signature stance. He would say, “It’s up to us to shield the citizens of the town from danger. We are the front of the line.” 

You smiled to yourself at the thought as you rode off, out of the town on your horse.

Several exhausting days later of investigation and tracking across the wilderness, you finally came to the hide out of Ms. Romanov.

You dismounted and looped the reins around a scraggly tree branch. You were only able to take a few steps towards the ramshackle ranch house when a gunshot ran out and whizzed to kick up the dust next to your foot. The shot, sure enough, startled your horse into bolting which left you stranded miles away from any other civilization. You slowly raised your hands in a sign of surrender and tried to catch a glimpse of the sharp shooter near the shuttered window. A mans voice called out from the house, “Fury sent you?” You could just barely see the glint of the barrel of a rifle beyond the window and wondered how someone could make such a skilled warning shot from that far off.

“Sheriff Rogers, actually. Just came here to talk,” you replied, your voice steady despite the slight tremor in your hands. Your horse had bolted with the rest of your ammo. If this led to some kind of shootout you were outnumbered and outgunned.

“God damn it all! Nat, they just sent a girl!” The man who you assumed to be Clint Barton threw open the shutters of the window to get a better look at you. His rifle was pointed to the ground.

Natasha then stepped beyond the doorframe of the house and into the open yard towards you. “If I know anything about Sheriff Rogers is that he wouldn’t appreciate your use of language in front of a lady, Clint.” Her voice was a delicate drawl as she sauntered over to you. Damn, you thought. Those wanted posters did nothing to capture the true, femme fatale beauty of this woman.

As she approached you noticed that Widows Bite was drawn but Natasha’s finger was nowhere near the trigger. That eased your mind a little as you slowly lowered your hands to your sides. From your vantage point you could see the hawkeyed man tense for a moment as you reached or your gun holster. You just simply loosened your belt and presented it to the redheaded woman.

“I’m ____________,” you said as you handed off your only form of protection to the outlaw.  
“____________, huh?” Natasha’s red lips quirked into a wry smile as she eyed you over, “It’s a pleasure.”


	3. Maria/Reader - A Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little drabble of you and Maria enjoying the morning together as fiancées.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to everyone who's reading and giving kudos! Some comments, suggestions and/or requests would be greatly appreciated.

“_____________? What’s all this?”

The look on Maria’s face was an odd mixture of curiosity, amusement, and underlying hint of concern as she looked over your presentation.

The kitchen of the apartment you both shared smelled distinctly of maple syrup, cinnamon, and a various assortment of other breakfast food smells. The breakfast table in question was laden with a stack of pancakes, fruits, cinnamon rolls, and french toast. Despite the surprisingly pristine appearance of the kitchen itself (all batter caked bowls and other mixing accouterments were safely stored away in the dishwasher), you however looked like a mess.

No matter what you did with your hair, there were still a few strands sticky or lightly powdered white with flour. The dusting of powdered sugar on your left cheek gave you an adorable look, though. 

“What?” you smiled, “I can’t do something special for my workaholic wife?”

Maria’s eyebrow quirked up as she crossed her arms over her chest in mock sternness.

“You know that we’re not signing those papers until a few more months, right?”

“And here she is, not even denying that she’s a workaholic.”

You bantered back as you walked over to her and placed a light kiss to her cheek.

It was true though, Maria was a workaholic. The shadows under her eyes seemed to be darker lately and more often than not you found yourself alone in bed at night. 

To an extent you were used to your fiancée’s habits around her work, but sometimes you hated S. H. I. E. L. D. for what it put her through. Specifically because she worked for S. H. I. E. L. D. neither of you wore engagement rings. It was safer that way, and you knew that, but you didn’t have to like it. And that was why after Maria gone to sleep last night (a rare occurrence), you had started whipping through the kitchen in a frenzy.

With that, you pulled out a chair for Maria who laughed at your over exuberant display of chivalry but sat down nonetheless. You gave her another quick kiss, this time to her temple, before you sat down on the opposite side. You looked at her expectantly as Maria began the important process of decided what to eat first.

After the two of you had finished your breakfast and were satisfyingly full, you both enjoyed the stillness of the morning simply gazing at each other from across the table. Whenever Maria looked at you with that rare, genuine smile of hers, you just melted. Lost in thought, it took her a moment to catch your attention.

“___________?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure about this?”

You snapped out of your reverie due to the concerned tone of Maria’s voice.

“About what?”

Maria sighed in frustration and vaguely gestured between the two of you, “About…about this.”

She began to ramble slightly about the institution of marriage in America, how it was potentially a tool of the heteronormative patriarchy, and the binding finality that a stupid piece of paper could bring. 

You looked at the woman who had confidently commanded countless of agents, survived seemingly insurmountable battles, and faced off H. Y. D. R. A. in order to protect what she thought was good about the world. What she thought was worth saving about it.

You sighed.

“Maria…”

She paused mid sentence and abruptly closed her mouth with a click as your warm hand covered hers on the table.

“I can not wait to stand next to you and become Mrs. ____________ Hill.”

You gave her hand a hard squeeze and politely pretended not to notice the glimmer of tears in Maria’s eyes.

“Besides…” you laughed with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “Someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

The both of you bust out into full, genuine laughter and spent the rest of the morning enjoying each others presence.


End file.
